


Dwalin Doing Properly

by diemarysues



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Sexual Inexperience, Smut, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Dwalin Done Proper, whereupon Dwalin uses his newfound knowledge to fuck Bilbo into the mattress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dwalin Doing Properly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SavioBriion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavioBriion/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dwalin Done Proper](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052244) by [diemarysues](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues). 



> Gosh, that summary doesn't beat about the bush, does it? Thanks to alkjira for the read through.

Hobbit plumbing was quite different from Dwarvish plumbing – less efficient – but Dwalin had learned from his week in Bag End and managed to fill the bath all the same. He’d been rather bemused when Bilbo had steered him into the bathroom, giving him a towel and a kiss before stepping out. He’d been about to close the door when Dwalin asked why Bilbo didn’t join him.

 

The Hobbit, still entirely unclothed, had smiled widely. “Oh, I figured since I’d worked up a sweat that I’d go outside and do some gardening.” The curve of his mouth gained a wicked edge. “Tomatoes to harvest, that sort of thing.”

 

Dwalin sunk into the hot water; a part of his mind was still surprised that he fit into the tub. Another part amused him by imagining Bilbo out in the sunshine, bending over to tend to his tomatoes and exposing his arse to anyone who cared to pass by. He moaned a little at this image – Bilbo had a _magnificent_ arse, and soon Dwalin would have it.

 

He did not reach between his legs to have a leisurely wank, despite the temptation otherwise. He would have the real thing soon enough.

 

Instead, Dwalin reflected on the pleasant ache in his muscles; where he’d usually have pain he’d have to grit his teeth through, he could honestly say that there was none at all. If he didn’t know better, he’d’ve thought that he’d just gone through a routine weapons training (even if the ache was very specifically placed).

 

It seemed that his arriving at their possible-burglar’s home earlier than expected had been like finding pyrite and discovering it was real gold; a happy and rewarding circumstance. Dwalin found himself hoping that Bilbo would agree to join the quest, because he was truly more than met the eye. Not only in the bedroom – or kitchen in their case, and in more ways than one. Bilbo had an iron spine and a wry sense of humour, wrapped up with biting cleverness into an appealing body. (He wasn’t afraid to defend his cookie jars from Dwalin’s thieving fingers, to put it another way.)

 

It would also be nice – if they did have the opportunity and privacy – to warm someone’s bedroll, and have his bedroll be warmed. The other Dwarves might look askance, or be jealous, but Dwalin found that he couldn’t care. His business, should Bilbo sign the contract and agree to continue their ‘activities’, was his own.

 

He finished up in the bath while entertaining himself with thoughts of his kin’s reaction to Bilbo (and the other way ‘round), and wondered how things would have gone should he have arrived today instead of a week ago. Considering that Dwalin had been the first Dwarf he’d ever met, thirteen all in one night would have been overwhelming. Bilbo would likely have become very flustered.

 

Dwalin left the bathroom with the towel hanging low on his hips; hopefully he’d have Bilbo underneath him soon, flustered for a different reason.

 

“Now where do you think you’re going?”

 

Smiling at the hint of breathiness in Bilbo’s voice, Dwalin turned. “I thought you’d be out gardening.”

 

“A little too warm for my tastes.” A little pink tongue peeked out and swiped over Bilbo’s full bottom lip, hazel eyes intent as they tracked across Dwalin’s broad chest, taking in the sharp spikes of his tattoos. “I thought I would take a bath of my own.”

 

Indeed, Bilbo was dressed in his dressing gown, a garment somehow sumptuous and simple at the same time. Bilbo looked entirely alluring in it; he’d not fastened its tie tightly, so Dwalin was able to steal a glance at his chest and thighs. Watching Bilbo and being watched in turn made Dwalin’s cock start to rise to attention, and he stepped forward, sliding his hands down Bilbo’s arms. “And what of your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

 

“I rather think they involve…” One slender finger hooked into Dwalin’s towel; a quick tug had the cloth fluttering to the floor, leaving him bare. “This.”

 

When Bilbo’s heated gaze fell on Dwalin’s cock, Dwalin could almost feel the blood rushing downwards. He growled low in his throat, pulling Bilbo against him abruptly so he could push his cock against Bilbo’s cloth-clad belly, as he had done not so long ago. He was rewarded with a hiss of pleasure, and then Bilbo’s arms twined around his neck, pulling insistently.

 

Kissing was still a strange affair, but Dwalin rather thought he was getting the hang of it – a thought that was dashed away when Bilbo started nipping at his lips with blunt teeth. Each quick little bite sent sparks shooting up Dwalin’s spine and his hips jerked forward of their own volition.

 

He let his hands wander; one cupped the back of Bilbo’s head as they kissed, fingers tangled in honey brown curls. The other hand stroked down Bilbo’s back, over the noticeable swell of his arse, down to the tops of his thighs and then back up again. Bilbo made a questioning noise against Dwalin’s mouth that turned into a moan when Dwalin squeezed his handful, having crept underneath the material of Bilbo’s robe.

 

Heavy coils of pleasure settled low in Dwalin’s belly as they continued kissing, slow, steady. Bilbo started tugging, trying to pull Dwalin backwards but he held firm. He wanted to savour the moment.

 

Bilbo pulled back, putting his fingers over Dwalin’s lips when he mindlessly followed. Dwalin raised an eyebrow.

 

“As much as I’m enjoying myself, I –” Bilbo faltered when Dwalin took his fingers into his mouth and sucked. He cleared his throat. “Enjoying myself, yes, I –” He cleared his throat again. “I mean this to continue in a bed. My bed.” Bilbo gasped a little when Dwalin caught the fleshy pads of his fore- and middle-finger with his teeth. “Don’t you?”

 

Dwalin let Bilbo’s hand drop, stealing a kiss just because he could. It was entirely pleasing to pull back and note that Bilbo’s eyes had slipped closed, and that a light flush dusted his cheeks. He chuckled. “Lead the way, then.”

 

Bilbo huffed. Extricating himself from Dwalin’s grip, he fussed with his dressing gown, cinching the tie before turning on his heel. “Pick the towel up,” he threw over his shoulder, tone lofty. “Before the floor gets ruined.”

 

Dwalin laughed again and did as told, draping the towel over one shoulder before following Bilbo into his bedroom. It was a large enough room, with a promisingly inviting bed that immediately caught the eye. There were little knick-knacks all over the place, and an overabundance of books, but on the whole it was as tidy and lived-in as the rest of Bilbo’s home.

 

“Hang it by the fireplace.”

 

There was a wooden rack for Dwalin to throw the damp towel over and he did so properly so Bilbo wouldn’t have anything to complain about. Then he turned to face Bilbo, who had already rid himself of his robe; certain parts of Dwalin were appreciative of this fact. His eyes took in the curves of Bilbo’s body, his soft thighs, his hard cock. Mmm. Very appreciative.

 

Bilbo smiled. “Bed,” he ordered, motioning his head towards it. “Sit yourself against the headboard.”

 

“You are very bossy,” Dwalin commented, sinking against the goose-down pillows.

 

“As if that’s a complaint,” scoffed Bilbo. “If I let you have your way, you’d not have learned how lovely it is to be taken.”

 

This was quite true. As serious as their quest to Erebor was, Dwalin was glad that circumstances had led him to this delightful creature’s door. Not least of all because he now had a squirming lapful of that same delightful creature. Dwalin returned his hands to cup Bilbo’s backside, groaning as Bilbo set to nibbling down his neck.

 

“Don’t we – don’t we need oil?”

 

“Ssh.” Bilbo cupped his jaw and kissed Dwalin sweetly enough that his toes curled. “Don’t rush. Not when we have all this time.”

 

This position had Bilbo’s arse pressed snugly against Dwalin’s shaft, a teasing hint of what was to come. And while Bilbo did not want to rush, there was no reason why they couldn’t hurry things along. Dwalin pushed up against the bed and was rewarded by the sight of Bilbo biting back a moan, blood flushing his lips pink. Bilbo’s prick was equally as flushed, a hot brand between their bodies, and it was incredibly enticing; Dwalin wanted to sneak his hand over Bilbo’s hip and lock his fingers around that prize but –

 

_Don’t rush_.

 

So instead Dwalin forced himself to be patient and watched as Bilbo mapped his tattoos with careful fingers. His touch was feather-light and utterly maddening and Dwalin hid kisses against Bilbo’s shoulder and collar, anywhere he could reach that wouldn’t disrupt Bilbo’s progress.

 

“What are these?” Bilbo, probably unthinkingly, tugged on the loops Dwalin had in his nipples, and the Dwarf groaned loudly. “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I –”

 

“It doesn’t hurt,” he bit out; no, it didn’t hurt at all. Even he hadn’t expected that reaction – for all the years that he’d had the piercings, no one had touched them but himself, and even then it had never been in a sexual context. And here an innocent touch from a completely not-innocent Hobbit had set him aflame.

 

Bilbo’s stricken expression had melted into one of smugness; his fingers were the perfect size to fit into the loops and he twisted them lightly just to have Dwalin twitch underneath him. “I was unaware that such a thing existed.”

 

“It does.” He swallowed heavily in an attempt to keep his voice from breaking. “I was unaware that I’d react like – _ah_ –”

 

One of Dwalin’s hands came up to cradle the back of Bilbo’s head – he wasn’t sure if he wanted to press it closer or wrench it away, and so it hovered uncertainly, shaking as Bilbo bit down and then soothed with his tongue. The metal piercing clinked against his teeth and the sound and feel of it –

 

Bilbo let himself be pulled away, upwards, meeting Dwalin’s desperate kiss with a smile. His thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles, and Dwalin tugged on his curls in warning.

 

He was laughed at – such cheek – but Dwalin magnanimously let it slide when Bilbo guided his hand to a jar on the bedstand. It was not stoppered, and he could see about an inch of oil sloshing in its bottom, smelling of honey. And indeed –

 

“Honey oil,” Bilbo explained, rocking his hips in tiny movements back and forth. “Used for soap making and… intimate purposes.”

 

And wasn’t that an intoxicating picture? Not the soap making, of course not, but the image of Bilbo, on this very bed, flushed and writhing as he worked his cock with oil-slicked fingers. And doubtless working his fingers _inside_ him, just as he would now let Dwalin do.

 

Though… Dwalin left the jar on the bedstand, eyes now locked on his outstretched hand. It wasn’t that he’d not noticed before, but the fact remained that their fingers were very different in size. Their _bodies_ were very different in size.

 

Dwalin kept his gaze lowered. “Are you sure you want to –”

 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Bilbo pressed small kisses to the corner of Dwalin’s mouth until Dwalin kissed back. “We just have to go slowly, remember? I’ll guide you right through it.”

 

“But –”

 

“Please trust me.” Bilbo’s expression was teasing, even if his tone was serious. “If I’m uncomfortable or unhappy, you’ll know it.”

 

It wasn’t long after this declaration that Dwalin discovered that it was true in its converse as well. Bilbo was not silent in his pleasure, gasping, panting, laughing, moaning. Dwalin felt like touching himself was unnecessary, pushing into Bilbo would be unnecessary. All he needed was to watch Bilbo’s face, incandescent with incoherent need, to listen to Bilbo’s voice, piling him with praise and encouragement.

 

All because of two fingers.

 

“Oh, oh! Yes, right there, beautiful, you’re – beautiful, yes!” Bilbo hardly seemed aware of his volume as he arched back into the mattress. His hands were tight on Dwalin’s upper arms, perhaps tight enough to leave bruises, legs spread wide to accommodate the Dwarf’s bulk. Dwalin had lent a hand, actually, fitting his thumb in the crease behind Bilbo’s knee and pushing that leg up almost to Bilbo’s chest.

 

How could it be that preparing one’s partner for penetration was almost as pleasurable as penetration itself? If Dwalin had had an extra hand he’d’ve stroked himself to completion by now.

 

“More oil,” said Bilbo, hissing breaths between his clenched teeth. “Then another – another finger.”

 

He was kind enough to keep his leg folded as Dwalin fumbled with the jar; the room already smelled of honey and sweat and sex, and Dwalin breathed in deep as he slipped three fingers into Bilbo.

 

Bilbo rocked down against him, a look of intense concentration across his face; Dwalin assumed to try for the best angle, as he had himself tried to do not so long ago. His cock lay against his belly, curved and flushed, and Dwalin wondered why he didn’t take himself in hand.

 

“Don’t want to come yet,” was the reply, and he realised he’d wondered out loud. “Not before you –”

 

Shrugging internally at this statement, Dwalin leaned down and started peppering soft kisses over Bilbo’s soft belly (instead of his original idea to do so to Bilbo’s cock). Bilbo sighed and arched into the contact, giggling quietly when Dwalin’s beard dragged too gently over his skin.

 

Emboldened by this reaction, he set about placing a mark over one hipbone, smiling at the rush of warmth against his lips and the trembling of Bilbo’s thighs. Dwalin kept this up for a few, long moments, until he was sure that it was darkly red, a stark contrast to Bilbo’s golden skin. His hand moved steadily and he nuzzled the mark he’d left, quite aware he was delaying but unsure how to continue. He didn’t want to seem boorish and ask straight out to shove his cock into Bilbo, but watching his fingers disappear and reappear from view, slickly sliding in and out, was enough to test even the most patient of souls.

 

Bilbo’s fingers stroked first over Dwalin’s temple, then down over his cheek to cup his jaw. Dwalin looked up, mouth going dry at the way Bilbo shuddered in deep breaths.

 

“Take me.” He helplessly swiped his tongue over his lower lip; it was red, bitten almost raw. “I’m ready, take me, have me.”

 

Dwalin quickly obeyed. He slathered his cock from root to tip with the honey oil and then held it steady as he settled himself between Bilbo’s thighs. It was just as well that they both had a moment to catch their breaths; if they both fell apart too soon it would’ve been a shame, despite all the sensations they’d shared already.

 

He slowly rocked into Bilbo, marvelling at the way Bilbo’s body yielded around him and provided a comfortably snug fit. Dwalin rested his forehead on the cool pillow, fitting his hands to Bilbo’s wide waist, counting silently in Khuzdul as he waited. Previously he wouldn’t have bothered with such a thing; before Bilbo, no one had given him time to get used to their cock, and he’d found no reason to extend the courtesy to his partners.

 

Now though, things were different.

 

Bilbo’s legs were loosely wrapped around Dwalin’s waist; he started when one heel kicked at the small of his back and lifted his head to meet hazel eyes.

 

“Move,” Bilbo ordered, impatience colouring his tone. “And then come here and kiss –!” He broke off into a wordless cry as Dwalin finally, _finally_ thrust his hips forward with enough force to rock the bed. And as much as Dwalin was glad to have beautiful friction all along his cock, he was just as happy to cover Bilbo’s mouth with his own, swallowing every mewl and moan that _he_ was the cause of.

 

Bilbo was beautiful, _exquisite_ ; Dwalin couldn’t get enough. He wanted to pin the Hobbit down onto the silky sheets and have his way with him, drain him of every drop of come and make him scream into the sunshine-lit room. But he kept his speed slow; he wanted to make it good.

 

“Oh, yes, oh _yes_ –” Bilbo scratched his fingernails down Dwalin’s back, drawing a hiss of part-pain, part-bliss. His cock was trapped between their bodies, leaking, and Dwalin pulled back and braced himself on his elbows to watch it bob up and down.

 

It was an entrancing sight; Dwalin licked his lips, suddenly finding that he wanted to _taste_ , and his expression must have been too much for Bilbo who twitched and spurted. The sudden tightness of that dark heat and wicked,  _wicked_ tugging at his piercings had Dwalin falling soon after, voice cracking as he spent himself.

 

Bilbo wrapped his arms and legs securely around Dwalin’s body and made unhappy noises when Dwalin made to pull out and away, so they stayed in that position for a few moments, each catching their breaths as their racing heartbeats gradually slowed. When Dwalin finally separated their bodies, he softened the blow with a deep kiss. Bilbo hummed as they parted, lazily throwing a leg over Dwalin’s thigh.

 

As they both settled in for an impromptu nap, Dwalin made a mental note to ask for some of that honey oil. After they woke.

**Author's Note:**

> /runs away


End file.
